Phil's Crossover Shorts
by Philip S
Summary: Random crossover ideas that came to me in various states of mind and never made it into fullfledged stories. Collected here for your approval and critique. 8th one: In a place where emotions are dangerous the Slayer dips deep into a dark power.
1. The Great White North

**Author's Note **: I've recently looked over my various fanfic notes and documents and found a lot of old ideas for crossover fiction that never made it into full-fledged stories. So I decided to write some shorts from these ideas, see what people think, try and find out whether any of these might have the potential to make full stories out of them after all. So let me know what you think, okay?

This first one here is a crossover with X-Men. Doesn't really matter which version of them. X-Men characters and concepts are copyright Marvel Comics, no infringment intended. All Buffy characters are copyright Joss Whedon and people. Just the crossover idea is mine.

* * *

**Short 1: The Great White North **

The woman looked like she was a teenager, but his nose wasn't fooled. There was something about her, something that belied that youthful façade she was showing to the world. It was almost like looking into a mirror image, he mused.

She was slowly coming awake, whatever drugs they had used to knock her out wearing off. He remained sitting in the far corner of the holding cell, not making any move that she might regard as threatening. He remembered how he had reacted when he'd been brought in here. And while this woman didn't look all that dangerous, he knew very well how looks could be deceiving.

"Stupid fuckers," she cursed. It was endearing in a strange way. No "Where am I?" or something.

"Welcome to the cell, darling," he said, still not moving. "Our hosts hope you enjoy your unwanted stay."

She looked up at him, dark tresses hanging in her face, her dark chocolate eyes flashing dangerously. Yep, no normal girl, this one. He could smell the power rolling off her. Whatever she was, she wasn't normal.

"And you are?" she asked, standing up on wobbly knees, her body language screaming that she was ready to kick his ass if needed. Under other circumstances he might have enjoyed going a few rounds with her, but under the circumstances...

"The name's James," he said, doing his best to look non-threatening. He wasn't very good at it. "And you?"

"Farrah," she answered, checking out her surroundings while keeping an eye on him. "So what is this place?"

"Beats me!" He rose to his feet, slowly. "I was leaving a bar, pretty drunk, and someone took me down from behind. Woke up in here two days ago. Haven't seen anyone since."

"Sounds familiar. Some bastards shot me in the back. Thought I was dead."

"This could be hell, I guess," he mused.

"Nah, I don't think so. Not enough fire and brimstone."

That wrung a smile from him. Not one to crack under pressure and a sense of humour. Well, if nothing else he met a fascinating woman during this kidnapping.

"What do you think they want with us?" Farrah asked.

"Not sure, but if I were to make a guess..."

Without further warning he struck out, bone claws sliding out of his hands, aiming directly for the woman's face. Faster than the eye could see she reacted, dropping to the floor and sweeping his legs out from under him. He flipped back to his feet, even as she struck out towards him. Her fist connected with his nose, breaking it. His claws swiped across her arm, leaving three bloody lines.

They sprung apart. James' nose stopped bleeding and the broken bone set itself. The three bloody lines on Farrah's arm took a little longer to heal, but within a minute they were gone.

"I'd say they figured out we aren't exactly your normal joes," James finished.

"You can say that again."

The two prisoners didn't know it, but they were watched by a hidden camera. In another place someone was watching the camera footage with a smile on his face.

"Perfect specimens, yes. Prepare them for the first round of memory implants. We need to erase their previous personalities before we can proceed."

A murmur of nods from the lab technicians answered him as he continued to study his two specimens.

"Farrah Winters and James Howell," he mused, chuckling. "I think we need to give you some new names for your stint in Weapon X." Thinking a moment, he typed two names into the computer for the new files.

Faith and Logan.

**THE END**


	2. Of Bats and Men

**Author's Note: ** This idea came to me just a few days ago. I originally had an idea for a Batman / Angel crossover with Angel in Gotham to hunt down a mystical relict and Wolfram & Hart hiring the Joker to kill him, which would call Batman into the plot. Then I remembered a little short story that appeared in the Elseworlds Annual of L.E.G.I.O.N. and together, they became this.

So have fun, enjoy, and remember, none of these characters are mine. They are copyright Joss Whedon and DC Comics respectively. Oh, and the first few paragraphs are taken more or less directly from Frank Miller's brilliant Batman: Year One story.

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**Of Bats and Men  
**(X-Over with Batman)

I've tried to be patient. I've tried to wait. But I have to know. How, father? How do I do it? What do I use to make them afraid of me?

I have wealth. The family manor rests above a huge cave that will be the perfect headquarters. I even have a butler with training in combat medicine. Everything I could possibly need is at my fingertips, everything I need to take up the war against the criminals.

Yes, father. I have everything. Everything but patience. I have already waited eighteen years. Eighteen years since that night. The walk to the car after the movie. And the man with the frightened, hollow eyes and a voice like glass being crushed. The night I saw you murdered right before my eyes. The night all sense left my life.

There is one final ingredient missing. Some primal element that will instil fear in them. But what...?

Without warning it comes. Crashing through the window of your study... and mine. I've seen it before somewhere. Yes, it frightened me as a boy, this giant winged shape, this bat. Frightened me... that's it. Yes, father.

I shall become a ba...

"Ah, there you are!"

A blonde woman jumps through the shattered window, dressed in leather pants and a pink top, a wooden stake in hand. What is she...?

"Come on, drop the bat thing! It's getting so boring."

The bat suddenly transforms into a man, dressed in red and black, pale face, long black hair. The woman seems neither surprised nor frightened. Not frightened at all.

"So we meet again, Slayer." He speaks with a cheesy East European dialect, almost like a B-movie actor. "Maybe this time you and I shall..."

"Oh, zip it!" The woman surges forward and drives her stake into the man's chest. Moments later he explodes into ashes.

"Scratch Dracula," she mutters, wiping dust off her clothes. "Again. Wonder how long it takes for him to come back this time."

She finally seems to notice me, giving me a smile. "Nice mansion," she says. "Sorry about the window." Then she is gone.

Left in the darkness, the ashes of the strange bat-man still on the floor, I come to a decision, father.

Whatever shape my battle against crime shall take, I shall most definitely not become a bat.

**THE END **


	3. The Unreal Sunnydale

**Author's Note: **This idea originally started out with Willow and Morpheus as the main characters, but then got revised into Buffy and Angel. I also drew some inspiration from an Image comic book that appeared some years ago, though I've forgotten the title. Maybe you can figure out what it was called after reading this short. Enjoy!

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**The Unreal Sunnydale  
**(X-Over with the Matrix) 

Angel didn't know what had happened. A moment ago he had been with Buffy, the two of them alone in his apartment, only just finished with the most intense round of love making he had ever experienced in either world. Then everything had suddenly crashed, the world around him dissolving into the green-on-black code that was the Matrix grid, and he'd been pulled out.

Surging out of his chair, he looked around at the watching members of his crew.

"What the fuck just happened?" he yelled.

"We got caught, that's what happened," his second-in-command, Gears, told him. "We don't know how, but some Agents caught us hacking into the story program."

"Then why didn't you simply warn me?" he asked, still angry. He'd made such progress these last few days. "I could have pulled out and safely inserted myself again later."

"No go, boss," Gears said. "They weren't sending Agents after you. The story program doesn't work like the rest of the Matrix. They... best I can put is, they tried to overwrite you. I had to pull you out or your brain woulda been fried."

Angel calmed down a bit, now leaning over Gears' shoulder to study the readouts. It had been over a year since they had discovered the so-called story program, a tightly encrypted subsection of the Matrix used for special purposes. Only a few months ago they found out what those purposes were and it still horrified them, but it also provided a tremendous opportunity.

"We still got our tap inside," Gears said. "See that?"

Angel nodded. He saw just fine. When they had first managed to hack the story program, he had managed to insert himself into it as a character in this strange, fiction-styled reality the AIs had created. It was the only way not to stand out. Unlike the Matrix proper most of the humans in the story program were automations, not real humans hooked up via the power plant. The story program was a reality created for only a handful of special humans. Humans like Buffy. Angel had entered the program as a character, a vampire, in order to get close to her.

Only now it seemed the AIs had gotten wind of it and were doing their very best to undo all his good work.

"The character index shows that 'Angel' is still online in the story program," Gears said. "They replaced you with one of their automations, it seems. Oh, and they just renamed it, too. Angelus."

"Damn it," he yelled, striking the table with his fist. "They must have realized they couldn't simply throw me out without Buffy getting suspicious."

"You have been getting close to her," Gears chuckled. He knew, of course, what his captain had been busy doing online just a few minutes ago.

"I don't want to think what they might be doing next. According to my story background Angelus was my name when I was still a vicious monster. Gears, we need to take control of my character back before they undo all the progress I've made with Buffy."

Sadly, with the way the story program was structured, he couldn't simply walk up to Buffy and the other prisoners of that virtual reality and tell them the truth, even if he'd somehow been able to make them believe it. He could only operate within the confines of the story. So they had improvised by creating a contradicting character, a vampire with a human soul, a monster helping humans. The purpose was to make Buffy and the others like her question the reality they were being presented, so that eventually they might break them out of it.

Now it seemed they might be back at square one.

"I'll do my best, boss, but it won't be easy. And we need to get off this node soon, too, before they locate us."

Angel sighed. This was getting better and better.

"Do what you can. I'll report to Zion."

Walking to the communication room, Angel thought of Buffy. At the start of this mission she'd been just that, a mission. They'd found out that the AIs were breeding a special kind of human, one gifted with superhuman abilities, and they wanted to use them as infiltrators and assassins to finally get rid of the threat of Zion. In order to ensure their loyalty, these specials would be brainwashed via this story program, made to believe a fantastic reality that would remain in their heads even after they were disconnected from the Matrix.

Angel hadn't understood it at first, but the plan was brilliant actually. Buffy believed she was a Vampire Slayer, a human with a holy mission to eradicate vampires from the Earth. Vampires who all happened to look human, of course. So it would be easy for the AIs to seamlessly blend the unreality of the story program into the reality of Zion and make her believe that all the citizens there, or maybe just the key figures, were demons in need of killing.

He needed to stop them and he needed to free Buffy. Not just because, once free, her superhuman abilities would be a tremendous asset. No. It was also because he had fallen in love with her. He hadn't planned to, but it had happened.

And he would move heaven and earth to get her out of there and into his arms in the real world.

**THE END **


	4. Origins

**Author's Note:** Since I got a few good reviews for my crossover with Weapon X, I decided to do one more short in that universe. Who knows, maybe with another few reviews I might get inspired enough to write a full-length story.

**Origins **  
(X-Over with X-Men)

Your name is Faith Lehan. You are currently sixteen years old, though you have no problems passing for older if you want to. Your hometown is Boston and it's barely been a year since you were called as the Vampire Slayer, the one girl in all the world with the skill and strength to battle the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness.

Currently, though, you are holding something in your hand that makes you wonder if everything you think you know about yourself might just be a lie.

"Spark any memories?" the man sitting beside you on the couch asks.

You look at him, trying to remember if you've ever seen him before. He looks to be in his early to mid-twenties. Hairy, short, but powerfully built and handsome in a primal, wild way. His dark hair is swept up at the sides, a strange hairstyle if you've ever seen one. You are pretty certain you don't know him, but in some way you can't quite put your finger on he feels familiar.

Looking back at the photograph, you keep wondering. It shows three people, all of them wearing military fatigues, standing in the middle of some kind of army camp with jungle in the background. One of them is the man sitting beside you. The second one is a man you don't know. Big, muscular, blonde, vicious looking. There is something familiar about him, too.

The third person in the picture is you.

"This isn't possible, is it?" you ask, though you're not sure if you're asking him or yourself. "I mean, if the date on that picture is right, then it was taken thirty years ago. I wasn't even born then. And neither were you."

The picture looks old, faded, and its date is July 7, 1969. At first you considered the notion that the woman in the picture might be your mother or another relative you just might share a resemblance with. The odds are crappy, though. Everything about that woman, right down to the way she smirks into the camera while hugging the two men standing with her, is you. You'd stand the same way, you'd smirk the same way, you'd certainly grope two fine-looking male specimens the same way.

"It is possible," the man says. "My memories are pretty crapped up, but my earliest recollections go back to 1971. Haven't aged a day since then. Not sure why, but it's a fact."

He leans forward, giving you an intense look.

"You say you're just sixteen years old, darling. Are you sure about that? Do you remember being little? Do you remember your parents? Anything?"

You are tempted to lie, but somehow the words don't come across your lips. He is right, of course. You don't remember much of your past. Your earliest memory is barely two years old. According to the social services shrink you went to it's because of something traumatic that happened with your parents or something. You always accepted that as fact. Now, though?

The man reaches forward and touches your hands, his fingertips brushing across the faint scars on the back of your hands. Three on each hand, perfectly spaced.

"Do you remember how you came by these?" he asks, showing his own hands and the identical scars he carries there.

"No," you simply say. It's the truth, there's nothing there. Your Slayer healing should have taken care of any scars you received within a matter of days. These scars refuse to fade, though.

"May I try something?" he asks, his voice gentle. He doesn't seem like the kind of man who is gentle. For some reason, though, you trust him. It's a gut instinct and you've learned to listen to those, so you nod.

He reaches up your arm, his fingers probing your flesh, and you're beginning to think he might be trying to feel his way up to your chest, but he finally seems to find the spot he's been looking for. Gently moving your hand, he then digs his fingers in strong enough to bruise.

You can't quite suppress a gasp as a terrible pain shoots through your body. Something slides up your lower arm and through your hand, something sharp and cold. It explodes out of the three scars on the back of your hand, tiny droplets of your blood staining it. Three blades, three perfect, shiny blades.

"What the fuck...," you utter, staring at these... these claws that just came out of your hand.

"That's what I thought," the man says. He shows you his own hand and, moments later, he sports an identical set of steel claws, too.

"The stuff is called Adamantium," he says after a while. "Got it analyzed by some smart people I know and apparently it's the hardest substance known to man. Unbreakable. Oh, and my entire skeleton is coated with this stuff. Yours, too, I'd wager."

You try to wrap your mind around this. Steel claws? How come you have steel claws and never noticed? Oh, sure, you always were a little heavier than your build would led to believe, but steel inside your body? You'd remember anyone putting steel in your body.

Then again, would you? You don't remember anything until two years ago. And come to think of it, at the supposed age of fourteen you already looked pretty much like you do right now.

"Tell me more," you finally say. "Starting with, what was your name again?"

"Logan," he says, settling down. "And I don't know a whole lot yet, but I'm gonna tell you what I have."

**THE END**


	5. Along Came a Spider

**Author's Note:** A lot of people have told me that they'd like to see me write a full-length tale with Faith and Logan as Weapon X subjects, but unfortunately I'm currently at another fanfic low, so I'll be sticking with short stories for now (and trying to keep writing my "A Slayer Transformed" story, too). Sorry about that.Hope this latest short helps make up for it.

* * *

**Along Came a Spider **  
(X-Over with Spider-Man)

Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer extraordinaire and High School Senior, was currently considering the notion that the universe was having a serious grudge against her. Oh, she had always known that she wasn't its favourite person. The whole being called as a Slayer and living out a short life filled with demons and monsters thing was ample proof of that. Still, this latest development was really pushing it.

Here she was, the saviour of the world several times over, forced to endure a torture more profound and agonizing than anything the Master, Spike, Drusilla, or even Angelus might have come up with. And she couldn't even go the usual way of slaying her tormentor, considering that said tormentor was perfectly human and probably even thinking she was doing a very good thing.

That just went to show how much teachers knew.

"Now, class," Ms. Heidenreich said, "I want you to remember that we've been given an extraordinary opportunity here. It is not everyday that Oscorp opens its door to a class from a small school such as Sunnydale High."

"Isn't this exciting, Buffy?" Willow asked, almost bouncing with excitement. Okay, Willow was a nerd and proud of it, but still. Couldn't she at least stop it with the bouncing? She should know Buffy well enough to know that she wasn't enjoying this.

"Oscorp is like the biggest biochemical company in the world," Willow went on, oblivious to her friend's mood. "They do all kinds of revolutionary research here. I wonder if I could maybe get a job here after college."

"Wills, you could get a job pretty much anywhere, so please stop it."

Willow looked at her friend, apparently clueing in that she wasn't quite as excited as her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Buffy. I know you don't like this stuff. But isn't this great? Oscorp moved all its research out here to California from their plant in New York just a few weeks ago. If not for that, we might never have had the opportunity to visit here."

"We should have been so lucky."

Buffy tuned out the running commentary of their guide and Ms. Heidenreich, instead taking in the surroundings. Didn't look like anything special to her, just your standard laboratory injected with a certain air of gigantomania. She knew nothing of this Osborn guy, but he probably tried to compensate for something or other.

Suddenly something caught her eye. A boy about her age was wandering apart from the group. She'd seen him earlier, coming into the plant. Apparently he was part of a small exchange group from New York who had been granted an internship here at Oscorp. He had kind of reminded her of Xander. Right now he seemed to be wandering around looking for something, wearing that same look Xander always had when he had made a mess of some sort and didn't want anyone to notice.

Figuring that anything was better than listening to the guide's praising of Oscorp, she wandered over.

"Lost something?" she asked, causing the boy to start.

"Oh, I... no, not really, I... well... there was this spider and... I really shouldn't have..."

Buffy wasn't sure what he was saying, but her focus suddenly shifted to a spot above them. Something was moving up there and she'd caught it at the edge of her vision. A spider, a huge one. And with funky colouring, too. And it was quickly zipping downward, right toward the boy.

"Look out," she yelled, shoving him aside. The spider landed on her lower arm and, before she could swat it away, bit her.

"Ouch!" She threw it off and smacked it against the wall with enough force to splatter it into a mass of multi-coloured goo. Checking her arm, she found two tiny red dots where the little bastard had bitten her. Well, she'd been bitten by far worse.

"You okay?" she asked the boy, who was only now getting back to her feet.

"Yeah. I... uh, was that a spider?"

"Yes, why?"

"A big, blue and red one?"

"Yes, again. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just... well... you probably shouldn't mention that you squashed it. I hear it was kind of important."

Looking around, Buffy saw that no one seemed to have noticed their little escapade.

"Let's get out of here then... sorry, what was your name again? I'm Buffy, by the way."

"Parker. Peter Parker. Are you okay? You're looking a little pale."

Buffy was feeling a little dizzy. "No, I'm all right. Probably just the constant prattling of the Oscorp-preacher over there."

A little spider-bite was nothing to worry about, was it? She'd been bitten by worse. This dizzy feeling seemed to be getting worse, though. Maybe she should excuse herself and go home sick. Yeah, that sounded good.

THE END 


	6. An American Vampire Slayer on Etheria

**Author's Note **: I've had this idea tumbling around in my head for a while, but could never quite think of a plot to carry it. So no plot as such, just a nifty idea for a setting. If anyone's got an idea for a plot, feel free to let me know and this just might become a full-fledged story.

* * *

**An American Vampire Slayer on Etheria**  
(X-Over with She-Ra, Princess of Power)

Whistling a jaunty tune, Faith the Vampire Slayer walked along the beaten path toward the inn she had spotted in the distance. It was a bright and sunny day, not a cloud in site, and she was feeling quite upbeat. How could she not? It was a great day altogether.

Oh, it had started crappy enough, as most days did with her. The G-Man had phoned her, telling her to come to the library because of some sort of emergency. The entire Scooby Gang (and who had come up with that name anyway?) had been assembled, including Miss Perfect Golden Slayer Buffy Summers, who wasted no time telling her how this unexpected emergency screwed up her precious, perfect life.

Anyway, the emergency had been the appearance of a guy called Whistler. To Faith he had looked like a slightly overweight guy in outdated clothing, but her Slayer senses picked up a definite demon vibe from him. According to B and the G-Man he was some kind of balancing demon. According to himself he was working for someone or something called the Powers That Be. And he needed a Slayer for a very important mission.

Which had immediately sent B on a rampage, telling everyone how she had no time for yet another important mission, she had enough stuff on her plate. Imagine how surprised she had been to learn that Whistler didn't want her for the mission. No, he had come for that other Slayer, Faith. The memory of a sputtering, indignant B still caused Faith to smile. How miffed the little blonde had been to find out that the latest apocalyptic, prophetic, holy mission didn't include her.

Whistler had told them a story of this place called Etheria, another dimension in definite need of someone to champion the cause of goodness and lost puppies everywhere. A Slayer, to be precise, or something much like it. The place didn't have vampires, apparently, but lots of other evil stuff that needed pounding.

The unfortunate gal chosen to be champion of this Etheria place was already there, Whistler had said, but she didn't know of her good fortunes yet. Someone needed to clue her in, show her the ropes, and deliver the shiny and very magical sword Faith had strapped to her back right now. She was tempted to keep it, honestly. Maybe she could put in a request for her own magical sword if she pulled this one off.

So here she was, off to another dimension, wearing clothes that seemed to hail out of some Middle Age fare, with a magical sword to deliver and a world to save (at least by proxy). And the best part of it all? She was number one here. No B to pull rank on her, no Scoobies to tell her how B would do it, nothing. Out on her own and loving it. Things couldn't get any better than this.

Of course she had no idea where to find this gal she was looking for, but that was but a minor inconvenience. She figured an inn was a good place to start. Whistler had given her some of the local currency and she doubted anyone would try to card her here.

Some people spared her a glance when she walked in, most of them guys, but no ruckus was raised. The people here looked perfectly human and, apart from the medieval state of this place, it might as well have been back home. Ordering a beer (or whatever passed for beer in this world) Faith sat down to study the surroundings.

"Welcome to our humble place, mylady," someone said. "I don't think I've seen you here before."

The guy uttering those cheesy lines sat down at her table and she gave him a measuring glance. Tall, well-built, good looks, and a moustache as cheesy as his lines, which seemed to hail right out of an Erol Flynn movie. He was dressed in some kind of armour, making him stand out a bit, and carried a bow and arrows on his back. A heart was engraved on his breast plate.

"Just my luck," she said sweetly. "Barely arrived and I already meet the local knight errand. Or is it Prince Charming?"

He obviously didn't get the reference, but kept smiling at her regardless.

"The name is Bow," he introduced himself. "Might I inquire your name, mylady?"

She wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel flattered. The guy was way over the top, but that just might pass for normal around here. Who knew? Besides, he was good-looking and well built, so she might as well see if she could get some use out of him. And maybe he could help with her quest thing, too.

"I'm Faith," she answered, giving a sitting mock-bow. "Do you always approach strange women in such a manner, Bow?"

"Only if they are as beautiful as you, mylady."

She was about to say something, but a commotion behind her drew the attention of her would-be knight. Faith saw several big, grey shapes entering. At the same time Bow's face darkened considerably. Gone was the charming grin, replaced by the grim face of a warrior who had spotted the enemy.

"Members of the Great Rebellion have been spotted in this area," one of the newcomers said. "All loyal citizens are ordered to provide any and all information they have."

There were three of them, huge figures clad in grey armour. Their chests were adorned by a crimson-red bat symbol, their eyes were glowing yellow slits. All three carried clubs and seemed willing to use them.

"Always the same," her sharp hearing picked up Bow's mutterings. "Try to have some fun, the Horde comes in."

Faith didn't need any further information, really. It was all there in Bow's glower and the way all the other patrons in this inn were cowering from the newcomers. These were the bad guys, no doubt about it. Concentrating on them, her Slayer senses seemed to agree that they were Slay-worthy.

Rising from her chair, she drew the wicked magical sword from her back.

"Mylady," Bow said, "you shouldn't..."

"I don't know who or what the Horde is," Faith told the three newcomers, "but you three Batman-wannabes are just what the Slayer ordered."

Without further ado Faith struck her first blow for freedom on Etheria.

THE END


	7. The End of All Things

**Author's Note: ** This short here is actually a variation of one of my earlier stories, Far Beyond the Dark, which, in turn, was a variation of an original story I wrote some years earlier. The basic plot (as such) is that some people are around to observe the end of the universe. I always seem to write this story (or a variation of it) when I'm a funky mood. Anyway, in Far Beyond the Dark those people were Drusilla, Angel, and Spike. In this story here it's other people.

Enjoy!

* * *

**The End of All Things  
**(X-over with Highlander and Neil Gaiman's Sandman) 

The landscape, such as it was, consisted only of ice and rock. Not a single trace of life was to be found, not even a grass blade. The atmosphere was pretty much nonexistent, at least as far as breathable gasses went. Not that there was anyone left who needed to breathe.

The sky above was pitch-black except for the single dim star slowly descending in the West. It would be the final sunset for this world. There would be no dawn come tomorrow.

"Any regrets?"

The question was not spoken, for there was no air to carry it. Even if there had been, both the speaker and the listener had long ago forgotten how to use spoken language. There was no one around to speak to anymore except each other and they had long ago transcended the need for words between them.

"Enough to fill several life times," was the answer. "Still, I guess if I could live my life again I would do most things the same way as before. You?"

"Oh, I have mountains of regrets, dear child. It's just that I have learned to leave them all behind ages ago."

"Will you never stop with the dear child' thing? I'm barely any younger than you."

"5,000 years."

"Like I said, barely."

They were an odd pair, the two of them. One was a man, tall and thin, his lips always carrying a curious mixture of a smile and a sneer. The other was a woman, barely out of her teens, small and fragile-looking.

"Why did you do it?" the woman asked the man.

"What?"

"Why did you spend all of your remaining power keeping our sun alive this long?"

The man got a whimsical look on his face, then smiled. "I had run out of other things to do with the power of the Price. Besides, if we're to boldly stride into the darkness, I want our own sun to light our way as long as it can."

An odd pair indeed. Eons ago the man had won something called the Game, acquiring near-infinite power in the process. Some would have used it to set themselves up as God. Others might have used it to aid their fellow men. Not he, though. He had continued his life almost exactly as before, using the power only when it suited his own whims, the only thing he really wanted was survival.

The woman, on the other hand, had not won anything. No, she had lost something. Eons ago, even before the man had won his Game, she had traversed the boundaries of life and death several times over. And in the end she found that the ability to die now eluded her completely. The man and his former kin, the ones he had killed to win the Game, had boasted of their immortality. She, though, was truly immortal, for not even cutting off her head had managed to kill her. She knew. She had tried it several times.

Now, though, millions of years after the very race that had spawned them had fallen to dust, these two immortals were facing the one death even they could not escape from. The death of all things. The eternal dark.

Today was the day that Entropy devoured the final erg of energy remaining in the universe, making it a black and frozen place, now and forever.

The woman flexed her hands, feeling the cold already creeping through her ancient bones. There had been a time she had tried everything imaginable to finally gain the death she longed for, but nothing had worked. Now, with the universe itself coming to an end, she wondered whether she would finally know rest.

"How long do you figure?" she asked the man.

"Maybe another hour. I...," for the first time in all the years she had known him he hesitated.

"I know," she just said, knowing his thoughts. "You will get your death, Methos. Even the energies of the Price can not survive final Entropy. But me... who knows?"

"Buffy, I know how much you long for this. If I could trade places with you..."

"Just hold me, okay?"

Methos nodded, taking the tiny blonde woman into his arms. For eons after the end of all life they had been a world all unto themselves. They had been lovers, enemies, friends, and strangers to each other, simply because there was no one else left to fill any of these rolls for them.

Now it was over. Methos would die, for the energies sustaining him, the power of the Quickening, was finally spent. But Buffy? Would the end of the universe be the final out for the one Death refused to take? Well, there was but one way to find out.

No more words were needed between them. And when Methos' arms grew cold and lifeless around her, Buffy gently laid him down to rest, closing his eyes.

"Goodbye, my love," she whispered, bestowing a final kiss onto his cold brow. "If God is kind I will see you on the other side."

In the sky above the sun flickered and then died, the last light in the universe now snuffed as well. Darkness closed in around Buffy, total and everlasting. No more sights, no more sounds, no feeling except the cold.

Then... movement.

"Time to go, Buffy," a female voice said.

Light came from an unknown source, showing her a pale young woman with black hair, black clothes, and an Ankh symbol around her neck. Buffy knew her very well. She had argued with her, threatened her, even gone down on her knees before her, begging her to take her. Nothing had ever worked.

"I can finally go?" Buffy asked, not quite daring to believe it.

"The universe is over," Death said with a smile. "Now it's time to put up the chairs, turn off the lights, and lock the place behind me as I leave."

Offering her hand, she smiled at Buffy. "A long time ago I entered into a contract never to take you. It has finally expired."

Crying tears of joy, Buffy finally went into Death's arms and together they left.

**THE END**

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PS: **I've started a new original story, a sci-fi serial. If you're interested, take a look at the Adventures of Sandra, Scion of Veloria, to be found on my homepage (I'd put on a link, but won't let me. Just look up my homepage on my profile page and look under Original Fiction)**  
**


	8. Forging Strength From Pain

**Forging Strength from Pain  
**by Philip S.

Summary: The Slayer draws strength from her emotions. But there are places where emotions become dangerous.  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or setting appearing in this story, they all belong to their respective copyright holders. No infringement is intended.

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For as long as she can remember her world has been defined by pain.

The pain of losing her normal life when she became the Slayer. The pain of being helpless as her first Watcher died to save her. The pain of being put in a mental institution by her parents for the simple crime of speaking the truth. The pain of being told that she would die. The pain of losing the man she loved to a moment of passion. The pain of being forced to kill this same man to save an uncaring world. Pain and yet more pain.

She sought to end that pain by taking her sister's place and giving her own life for the world. That should have been the end, but it wasn't. There was more pain in store for her. More pain, still more pain. And slowly, ever so slowly, the pain stopped hurting her. First she became numb. Then she became stronger.

"I sense so much anger in you," the old, spent creature in front of her says. "Anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering."

A grin spreads across her cheeks. When she first came to this new place, once again cheated of her just reward, sent to a new battle field to once again experience pain in the name of others, she had bowed to its rigid structures. She had bowed to those with power, had bowed to their instructions.

No longer. For none of them suspected how this place would shape her, how much power it could bestow upon those who gave in to the fire of their emotions. None of them knew how much power the Slayer could forge from pain and anger. And how her anger burned for those who had used her as a tool and for those whose ignorant lives she had to save again and again and again.

"Down this path you must not go, Buffy Summers," the creature pleads.

"I never liked being told what to do," she says, her lips spreading in a cruel smile. "And FYI, Buffy Summers is not my name any longer."

Brandishing the crimson-red weapon her benefactor has given her, she prepares to deliver the final blow to the Order of the Jedi.

"Call me Darth Sumar, Master Yoda!"

And with a single blow of her light sabre the girl once known as Buffy Summers, now the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, kills the Eldest of the Jedi.

"Excellent, my apprentice," Lord Sidious says. Just hours ago he declared himself Emperor. The Jedi are being hunted to extinction. The boy, Anakin, who refused to bow to his will, is now also dead at his apprentice's hand. None are left to stop him.

Darth Sumar smiles. And none will be left to stop her once she kills him and takes his place as Empress of the galaxy.

THE END


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